March 2012
We are so lonely in life that we must ask ourselves if the loneliness of dying...
– Emil Cioran
Ennui is the echo in us of time tearing itself apart.
– Emil Cioran
February 2012
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Why can’t I live inside Formlessness?
The only serious question is whether or not to kill yourself.
– Albert Camus
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Anonymous asked: but you are
Anonymous asked: you are so adorable
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Anonymous asked: don't change your facial expression at all... now take a picture of your face and post it
caughtinaparadox:
I’m gonna start riding my bike by cute girls and telling them how beautiful they are and ride away as fast as I can.
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I have the deepest affection for intellectual conversations. The ability to just...
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Here’s how my brain works: it’s stupidity, followed by self-hatred,...
– Louis C.K.
That’s what optimistic means, you know, it means stupid. An optimist is...
– Louis C.K.
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“People are taking the piss out of you everyday. They butt into your life, take...
– Banksy
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fuckin’ treefingers, man
There, in the center of that silence was not eternity but the death of time and...
– Sula, Toni Morrison
Sometimes, when I see the libraries with their magnificent halls and all the...
– Heinrich von Kleist, German Poet (1777-1811)
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Anonymous asked: So I know this is weird to say but I figured I would say it anyway. We have really similar music taste. My favorite band is The World is a Beautiful Place and I'm Not Afraid to Die. My dad was diagnosed with early onset Alzheimer's last April and declined quickly. He's 53. He barely remembers my name but he knows that he likes dancing to the music that I play when I go visit him at...
Why aren’t there consent forms for being born?
I find it extremely difficult to do anything knowing I could be listening to Formlessness.
seabitch:
All the feminism on the internet spoils me because as soon as I go outside I have to be around people who find kitchen jokes funny.
absurdreasoning:
Sometimes I forget that I’m a human. Like the statue in my icon, my body is seemingly left motionless while the mind inside is left to its own devices, devouring itself and others for ideas to fuel its engines.
I often get so caught up in thought, so busy attempting to untangle the mess of experience thrust upon my plate, that I forget who I am, where I am, and that I am more...
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